Our Victor
by Stockholm
Summary: District 12 had never once seen one of their tributes in the Hunger Games come back alive; Until now. This is the story of Fyn Wenderly; the male participant in the 22nd annual Hunger Games. Does he have what it takes to survive?


_Trees. They were everywhere. They surrounded me like a cocoon, Hypnotizing me into thinking that they were the only things lingering nearby. The sound of the air whipping through their branches hushed the sounds of anything else audible in this horrid arena.. I opened my canteen and tipped it upside down, searching for any traces of water in side of the small metal cup. Nothing. I hadn't drank anything in days. Water. That's what I needed right now. I looked to the west, deciding that that was the way I'd head, remembering the stream I'd seen a few days back. I coughed as my dry throat stung up into my mouth. _

"_Hello." A deep voice called from behind me. I swung my head around, searching for the direction in which the voice had come from. Again, all there was, was trees. "Where do you think you're headed?" The voice rang around the dim forest, sounding a bit closer this time. I looked to the other direction in panic. Just me and the trees. I grabbed at my knife, reassuring myself that if anyone attacked, I'd have enough skill to take them down. " Oh, put the weapon away, kid. There's no use." The voice groaned, then faded, as a menacing laugh boomed after it. I shook my head. The voice seemed to echo around me, now. Coming from all directions._

_And then I saw him. He sat several feet up in a tree. He looked down at me, his golden eyes swirling with excitement. A smirk spread across his pale face , pleased with my realization of him lingering above me. He looked to be about six feet tall, and A few years older than myself. In his left hand, he clutched a long, shining sickle. He gleamed down at it proudly, tossing it back and forth between his muscular hands. I swallowed. The burning in my throat lingered._

_I scowled, yanking my knife out of it's holster. Up to this point, I hadn't killed anyone, and I never thought I would. But now, I thought, it's my only choice. Well, that, and dying. So I chose the option that didn't involve me being murdered in this accursed arena. I held the knife by my head, ready to throw it up at the boy perched in the lengthy branches. Oddly enough, he was smirking. I watched in shock as he leaped from the branch down towards me, that look of amusement still spread across his face. He was in front of me now, one hand on his hip and the other, the one that clasped the sickle, hanging lightly by his side._

_I was surprised by the fact that he'd moved himself to a place where I could easily wound, or kill, him. "Go ahead, kiddo." He said enthusiastically, looking down at my hand as I clutched my knife. My hand trembled wildly, I knew, I could see the glare of the sun against the metallic weapon shining up on the boys' face. "Take a shot." He lifted his arms up, still holding the sickle tightly in his hand. I swallowed, the burn lingering this time, my feet latching to the place where I stood. He waited a few moments, then frowned._

"_Hmm." He said with a sigh. "If you're not going to kill me… Looks like I've got to kill you." And for a moment he almost looked sorrowful. That moment didn't last, though, and I could tell by the smile that danced happily across his lips. This wasn't a smile of sympathy, no, it was nothing of the sort. It was a smile of triumph. "Please…" I mumbled, backing up slightly._

"_Welcome to the Hunger Games." And before I could protest, or realize that he'd meant what he'd just said, He snapped his arm backward and lodged his sickle snugly into my neck. I looked up at him, eyes wide. I felt the cracking of the bones in my neck as he dug in deeper. And even after I blacked out, His grin didn't fade. _

* * *

I awoke to the sound of my own screams. Sweat dripped down my forehead as I shot up in my bed. I looked around, furiously searching for any sign of the slaughterer I'd just met. Just like there had been when I was in the trees before he'd come, Nothing. I was alone. It was just a dream. I'd been having dreams pertaining to my death or me being the cause of someone else's death ever since this years' annual Hunger Games had been announced. I'd been dreading the Reaping day for months and now it had arrived. The 74th annual Hunger Games reaping was to be held today, and I was a nervous wreck.

I sighed, swinging my legs out of my bed. I ran my cold fingers through my damp hair, checking the time drowsily. 9:30 am. The reaping was at 11:00 so I had and hour and a half to get ready. In just an hour and a half two children from each district would be chosen to participate in the cruelest game known throughout Panem. A game that in order to survive, you'd have to kill. I Swept the thoughts aside, making my way to my dresser. I grabbed the first thing I lay my hands on: A black t-shirt and ripped blue jeans. I threw them on carelessly, not exactly caring to make myself look "fancy for such an important day like the Reaping" like the Capitol had instructed us. I sulked into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. My black hair was unkempt and hung aimlessly over my green eyes. I shrugged, deciding to join the rest of my family in the kitchen. Knowing them, they were probably already seated at the table and eating.

In the kitchen sat my thirteen year old sister, Evelyn along with my older brother, Maddox. They sat at opposite ends of the table and both looked up at me as I entered the room. Against the wall behind the table leaned my father. His glasses were down on his nose and he grasped a newspaper. My mother stood over the stove, examining the bread I'd gotten late last night during a trade with the baker.

"Hello!" Evelyn aid happily, smiling up at me. I forced a smile, walking around to her side of the table and ruffling her long black hair. Me and my siblings looked nothing alike, thanks to the very different appearances of my parents. While my sister, brother, and father all had light blonde hair and soft features, my mother and I had coal black hair and strong, defined features.

My dad looked up from his newspaper and gave me a warm smile. "Morning, son." He flipped the paper shut and joined my siblings at the table. I nodded and sat across from him. My fingers clicked nervously atop the wooden tabletop. He seemed to notice my Anxiety, looking at me over the top of his glasses. "Are you alright, Fynn?" Maddox said with a smirk, his voice trembling a little. I nodded. I could tell that he was just as nervous as I was. He had more of a reason to worry, though. Seeing that he was seventeen, and that I was only 15, his name was in the drawing bowl more than I mine. He'd gotten numerous tesserae for our family, while I had only gotten it once.

"I'm fine. I'm just… nervous for the reaping today." I shivered.

"Wimp…" I could hear Maddox mumble under his breathe. I ignored him.

Evelyn looked over at me with a sad but hopeful expression on her face. "I wouldn't be too worried." Of course she'd say that. She was never pessimistic and looked at the world through the bright side of everything. "At least we don't have as much entries as Maddox." She grinned jokingly. He looked up form his plate and scowled.

"Oh, shut up." Maddox, who was the complete opposite of my sister, was always grumpy. I was a mixture of the two. In the middle. He was a pessimist and rarely ever smiled. He looked at things as if they had no good to them. Don't let his sweet, angelic appearance fool you. He, out of the three of us, would probably be better off being thrown into the games. He wouldn't mind killing people, and would find a way to survive no matter what. Even if it meant killing his best friend, maybe even his own family (whom he cared nothing about.)

As many people had in the past, he'd probably end up going crazy; turning into an insane killer and going on a slaughter fest. "Besides," He continued proudly, mouth full of bread " I wouldn't mind if my name was drawn. Put me in that arena. I'd be fine. As much as it disappoints you, I'd be coming home. ALIVE." He winked and got up from the table, dropped his plate in the sink and stood by the front door. I could tell he couldn't wait to leave.

I checked the clock that hung upon the wall.9:30. We still had an hour, so I considered how long it would take us to get there. Since we lived out on the edges of district twelve, The walk to Town Square would take about a half hour. That left us another half hour to make our way to our seats. The entire district would be at the reaping, since it was a requirement for all of it's civilians to attend, so it would be rather packed. We'd better leave now if we wanted to make it.

I shoved my role in my mouth and ran to stand beside Maddox. My parents and Evelyn joined us, and we set off towards the Town square. And to myself, I silently prayed.


End file.
